" "Would you like to have me come in and talk?" How tender that sounded!—talk! "If you want to. ” She surveyed this sentence for some time before going on. Epithalamy might do. ‘I was not born to this. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. Jonathan looked in that direction, and beheld the fugitives riding off in triumph. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means.
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